Smashklok
by Sabateikoku
Summary: When Dethklok runs short of ideas, Nathan starts looking for a new calling. One advertisement in the newspaper may change everything... Rated T for violence and frequent (albeit censored with guitar noises) cursing.
1. We Ams Runs Out Of Ideas

Many tumultuous happenings had occured amongst the great death metal band Dethklok over the past few years. The power of the Doomstar had been unleashed, killing off nearly all of their major adversaries. Murderface had awakened from his coma with almost zero problems. The band's two subsequent albums had been getting rave reviews from professional and amateur critics alike. They had performed at every single festival on the European summer metal festival circuit, from big to small. They even performed at a limited-access VIP event on the moon! It seemed as if nothing could stop the juggernaut known as Dethklok.

However, things got shaky later on. Toki was sick of always playing second fiddle (or second guitar, in this case) to Skwisgaar, so he quit the band, permanently moved back to Norway, and started his own band there. After a long series of arguments with the other band members, Murderface ended up being fired from Dethklok... for real, this time. He then decided to devote all of his efforts to Planet Piss. And then Pickles went away on a Snakes 'n' Barrels Mega-Reunion Original Lineup tour, and never came back.

Nathan and Skwisgaar were all that remained of the band. Now, this wouldn't be much of a problem in a studio situation, as Nathan and Skwisgaar did pretty much everything on the albums. However, they were left without a drummer, so they had to program the drums for their next EP. This brought them many negative reviews, saying that it was not the same without Pickles. At that time, the fate of the band was very uncertain.

One night in Mordhaus, Nathan was trying to write some brutal lyrics for the forthcoming album. But he was having a lot of trouble. "Hmmm..." he said to himself. "Summoning giant monsters... Nope, we've already got 'Awaken'... Bondage... No, that's 'Castratikron'... Heritage... We've already got 'Bloodlines'... We can't do Vikings 'cause we've done 'The Lost Vikings'..."

"And I can'ts thinks about any riffs we hasn'ts already dones befores," Skwisgaar lamented, picking away at his Gibson Explorer guitar.

"Come on, Skwisgaar," Charles Foster Ofdensen said. "The new album's supposed to be out by November, and you two have barely made any progress."

"Yeah, well, I'm busting my f*guitar noise*in' brain here trying to come up with new lyrics," Nathan said. "Come on, Skwisgaar. Help a guy out!"

"I... I can'ts," Skwisgaar said. He looked Nathan square in the eyes. "I thinks... I thinks... _we ams runs out of ideas._ "

 _ **"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"**_

The resulting negative reply from Nathan shook the floors, broke several expensive and highly elaborate light fixtures, and could be heard from outside the walls of Mordhaus. The guard wolves held their paws over their ears and whimpered in fear of how loud Nathan's cry was.

"You've run out of ideas? That's not true," said Charles. "You still have to write about..." He paused for a moment, thinking about what Dethklok hadn't written about yet. Finally, he turned to them and said, "I guess you really have run out of ideas."

"F*guitar noise*s," Skwisgaar said. "Now what ams we supsosed to do? Our twenty-fives years annvisersary ams comings soon. How ams we supsosed do so somethings metals enough?"

"I don't know," Nathan said darkly. "We'll just have to wait and see."

 _ ***A/N - Updated to include Charles earlier and to write Nathan/Skwisgaar closer to character.***_


	2. Applications

The next day, Nathan was skimming through the newspaper, looking for something brutal to write about. But it looked as if it were a slow news day, with stories relegated to dances at retirement homes and cute puppies up for adoption. There was nothing brutal at all in the newspaper.

But then, Nathan saw an advertisement in a lower corner of the newspaper. "Join the Super Smash Bros. fight league... Hey, guys!" he called out to Skwisgaar, Charles, and any Klokateer within earshot. "Check this out!" He began reading from the advertisement. "Join the Super Smash Bros. fight league! New blood wanted for regularly-scheduled tournaments, one-on-one matches, and multi-man melee. Fame and fortune can be yours! For more information, resources, and application forms, please go to our website at **/info**."

"Sounds pretty brutals to me," Skwisgaar commented. "Maybes you should joins. Get your minds offs lyrics ands perhap inspires you."

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking," Nathan answered. "The ad says I can get application forms on their website. Maybe I should go there?"

Nathan went to the computer room. He logged onto one of the computers, went to the website, and clicked on an icon reading "Applications". He silently read through the description: _Please print out the form and fill in all applicable information in blue or black ink. Once the form is complete, please place in an A9-style envelope and mail to the following address...blah, blah... You will receive a correspondence mailing within two weeks that will notify you if you have been accepted or rejected._ "They still use snail mail?" he asked in disbelief.

" _We_ still uses the snails mail somestimes," Skwisgaar answered.

"Fair enough," Nathan dismissed Skwisgaar as he printed off the form. Then he went to fill it out.

 _First Name:_ **Nathan** _Last Name (if applicable):_ **Explosion** _Main universe (well-known organization, title, etc.)_ **Dethklok** _Street/postal address... Home/cell phone... City/state/province/country/ZIP/postal code... Email/website..._ Nathan filled out all the necessary information.

"How ams the appslications coming?" Skwisgaar asked.

"Almost done," Nathan answered. "I just need to sign this waiver. I need a witness. Can you sign for me?"

Skwisgaar took the pen and signed in the witness area. Then Nathan signed, placed the waiver with the rest of the application papers, and asked a Klokateer for the proper size envelope. The Klokateer returned with the right envelope. Nathan sealed up the envelope and gave it to the Klokateer, who hurried off to the post office to send it.

Later that night, Nathan, Skwisgaar, and Charles decided to watch a few matches between the Super Smash Bros. on the Internet so Nathan could see who he could potentially be going up against.

"Hmmm... It looks likes there ams some pinks blobby creatures throwings peoples into a pots," Skwisgaar commented upon seeing one of the competitors pull a giant cauldron out of nowhere and toss his opponents inside. "...And now they ams hurts badly, and there ams some other things comings out."

"Some kind of... dog... spirit... man... creature... whatever," Nathan described one of the fighters. "Man, they get fighters from every f*guitar noise*ing place imaginable."

"HOLY S*guitar noise*S!" Skwisgaar exclaimed in awe. "Where do you gets a car outsa nowhere and runs yous opponents over with its? This ams quite brutal."

"I think... I think I've found my new calling," Nathan declared. "I just hope I get in, so I can get in on this."

"It looks awfully unsafe," Charles said with a note of concern. "What if you die there?"

But after a while, the match ended. The dog-spirit-man-creature previously noted appeared to have won the match. Every other competitor was shown still alive, politely applauding at the victor's success.

"They're all still alive," Nathan commented. "Even though that one guy pulled out a f*guitar noise*ing car and ran over everybody with it. I should be fine."

That night, Nathan had a dream of himself squaring off against the pink blobby creature, the dog-spirit-man-creature, and the guy with the car. The end result featured everyone else lying in a bloody heap while Nathan placed one foot on the pile, raising an axe in the air with one hand and throwing the horns with the other. It was brutal and metal, and that's exactly how Nathan liked it. Of course, it wouldn't be this way in real life, but Nathan could dream.


	3. The Ride to the Smash Universe

Ten days passed. Nathan and Skwisgaar were still trying to write new material, with little to no luck. Skwisgaar suggested what he thought was a totally new riff, but Nathan later commented that it was almost a note-for-note ripoff of "Go Forth and Die". Then Skwisgaar thought of another riff, but he later realized that it was the main riff of "Blazing Star". Nevertheless, Charles pushed them on through the whole afternoon, despite not getting anywhere.

Suddenly, a Klokateer entered the room. "Mail call!" he announced. "Official-looking letter for Master Nathan Explosion, from a certain-" He took out a magnifying glass and examined the return address more carefully. "From a certain 'Master Hand', care of Super Smash Brothers... Looks mighty official..."

"Maybe that ams your appscilations," Skwisgaar noted, still plucking on his unplugged guitar.

"Open it and hand it over," Nathan ordered.

The Klokateer put the magnifying glass away, pulled a letter opener from his pocket, slashed open the envelope, pulled out all pieces of paper inside the envelope, and handed them over. "Here you are, my Lord," he said before turning away. However, he ran out a little too quickly, causing him to trip over a stray electrical cord and accidentally stab himself in the heart with the letter opener.

Nathan put on his reading glasses and read the letter. "Dear Mr. Explosion: The governing body of Super Smash Brothers Multiverse Fight League has received your application and thorougly inspected it, deliberating whether or not you are a worthy applicant. We are delighted to inform you that you have met our expectations and have been chosen to stay with the league for two months to further demonstrate your skills and perhaps become a permanent member of the league. SKWISGAAR! I GOT IN!" he yelled excitedly.

"Oh, goods for you," Skwisgaar said indifferently, still concentrating on his guitar.

Nathan continued reading the letter. "A representative from the Smash Universe will meet you at Mordhaus tomorrow evening at 8:00 PM in your corresponding time zone to take you to the league. We ask that you bring a supply of clothing, toiletries, any medications you may require, weapons that may be used for fighting purposes, and other necessary items with you. ... A trainee's contract is included in the envelope. In order to gain access to the league and its facilities, you must sign it. Failure to do so will result in a return to Mordhaus and not being allowed to reapply for a four-week period. Repeated failures to sign the contract with result in a permanent ban on reapplying. ... We hope you enjoy your experience as a member of the Super Smash Brothers Multiverse Fight League. We are very fortunate to have you among our ranks, and we hope that you will perform great feats as a member. Signed, Master Hand, Director of Operations, Super Smash Brothers Multiverse Fight League."

"So you has to signs the contracts again?" Skwisgaar asked.

"That other time wasn't a contract, it was a waiver," Nathan grumbled before looking over the contract. After looking over the contract, he begrudgingly signed it. Then he turned to Skwisgaar for a witness's signature.

"So you can'ts use any kinds of profansisty durings matches, interviews or promotions matserials?" Skwisgaar asked.

"I guess not," Nathan said. "Gonna be kind of hard, but if I wanna stay in the league, I guess I'm gonna have to control myself."

"So whats ams yous epic moves?" Skwisgaar asked, still curious.

"I'm probably gonna use a battleaxe or something metal like that... and obviously my own voice... probably one of the Klokateers if they can make it," Nathan said. "But for your big finishing move - called a Final Smash - I'm kinda stuck on that. They didn't say it was mandatory for that blank to be filled out, so maybe I'm gonna get one while I'm there."

"Pobsibly," Skwisgaar replied.

"So I hear you got in?" Charles said.

"Yeah," Nathan answered, showing Charles the correspondence letter.

"OK. So you'll be there for two months, then you'll have to go through a test to see if you actually become a permanent member of the league, if I'm reading correctly," Charles said.

"That's right," responded Nathan. "And they're going to be picking me up at 8 pm tomorrow. So this is my last full day with you guys. Whaddaya say we have a big fancy dinner tonight?"

"I'll go inform Jean-Pierre," Charles said, leaving the room.

The feast that ensued was a massive 5-course meal of the most brutally upscale dishes Jean-Pierre could cook in his undead state. While Nathan, Skwisgaar, and Charles were eating, they took some time to reminisce about some of the highlights of their career in Dethklok.

Later that evening, they watched some more Super Smash Bros. matches online. This time, they were watching as two mages, one male and one female, were squaring off against recoloured forms of themselves. "This must be one of the tests you have to go through in order to become a full member of the league," Nathan commented. He looked below the video screen at the description. "Yep, it's one of the tests they took before officially joining."

"So there's one of the things you'll have to do," Charles commented.

"Yeah... Should be pretty easy, because no one knows me better than me," Nathan said. "But then again, the recolors would likely know me, because they are me..."

7:58 PM - THE FOLLOWING EVENING

High in the skies above Mordhaus, a slim spacecraft was flying overhead, searching for a suitable place to land. The vulpine pilot of said spacecraft looked at his map again, making sure he had found the right place. He had. He continued to fly around in search of a landing pad.

Suddenly, he received a transmission. "State your business, invader!" a deep, booming voice said.

"I'm here for Nathan Explosion," the pilot replied. "I'm picking him up and taking him to the Smash Universe to participate in the Super Smash Brothers Multiverse Fight League."

"Do you know anything about this?" the voice asked, this time quieter and not directed to the pilot.

"Yeah, were you not there at briefing today?" another voice said in the background. "His Lordship said there would be someone coming for him at 8:00 pm. It's 7:59, so I guess the guy's a little bit early."

"You may land," the first voice said, this time giving directions to the furry pilot. "Klokateers, make sure he lands safely."

The spacecraft descended. The pilot timed his landing with the directions given by the Klokateer standing on the runway waving around two signs. Eventually, the spacecraft came to a smooth landing.

"Number 596, tell His Lordship his ride's here," the Klokateer said into a walkie-talkie. Then he turned to the pilot who had exited the spacecraft. "And who are you supposed to be? We've never seen anyone like you before. You from a different dimension or something?"

"My name is Fox McCloud," the pilot introduced himself. "Former leader of Star Fox, the Lylat System's premier team of mercenary pilots. Currently, I am enrolled in the Super Smash Brothers Multiverse Fight League."

"Oh yeah, that's the thing that His Lordship Nathan Explosion was planning on joining. ...He's gonna be arriving right about now." The Klokateer gestured to where Nathan was approaching, escorted by two other Klokateers who were carrying some bags. Skwisgaar and Charles were also coming, in order to bid Nathan a final farewell before he left.

"I'm here," Nathan announced his presence. "And who in the almighty f*guitar noise* is this fox-man-thing? Is he one of those fighters?"

"You got it," Fox said. "Name's Fox McCloud, former leader of-"

"I don't care who you were," Nathan interrupted. "All I care about is if you're gonna take me to the Smash Universe."

"That's what I'm gonna do," Fox said, slightly perturbed by Nathan's demeanor. "You must be Nathan Explosion."

"Yes."

"And who are all these people with you?"

"They're my servants," Nathan gestured to the Klokateers, "my bandmate, Skwisgaar Skwigelf," he gestured to Skwisgaar, "and our manager, Charles Foster Ofdensen." He gestured to Charles, who waved. "None of them are coming, they're just gonna see me off."

"OK, then... Shall we be off?" Fox asked.

"Just gotta say my final farewells," Nathan said, turning to his entourage. "Goodbye, Skwisgaar."

"Goodbyes, Nathans," Skwisgaar said. "Be sure to wins for me."

"Bye, Charles," Nathan said, turning to Charles.

"Safe travels, Nathan," Charles responded.

"Klokateers, you make sure to obey Skwisgaar and Charles while I'm gone," Nathan told them.

"Will do, my lord," the two Klokateers said in unison. Then they started to get into a little spat about owing each other a soda.

Fox stared at the two like they were crazy. They actually were a little bit crazy - working for Dethklok does that for you. Nevertheless, he pulled a remote out of his pocket and pressed a button. A trunk in the back of the spacecraft opened. "Baggage goes in here," he said.

The Klokateers put the bags in the back and helped Nathan into the passenger side of the craft. Fox got into the driver's side and announced that they were clear for takeoff. The flight Klokateers assisted in the takeoff. As the craft was lifting off, Nathan waved goodbye to his housemates before they got smaller... and smaller... and gradually faded away.

"So, uh..." Nathan said uncertainly, turning to Fox. "Got any metal?"

"Metal?" Fox asked. "You mean, like, the music genre?"

"Yeah, that stuff," Nathan confirmed. "And make it brutal."

"I don't really have a lot in the 'brutal' department," Fox told Nathan.

"Dammit," Nathan grumbled.

"Hang on a sec... I think Wolf left one of his CDs in here. Let me find it..." Fox started digging around in a compartment.

"Who's Wolf?" Nathan asked.

"He used to be part of the Smash Bros. until he left about a year ago. Ah... I found it." Fox pulled out a CD from the compartment.

Nathan immediately recognized the CD. It belonged to his own band - Dethklok's _The Dethalbum_. " **THAT'S MY BAND!"** he yelled excitedly. "Put it on! Put it on! Put it on!"

"OK, fine," Fox said, mildly irritated. He booted up the CD. A few seconds later, the opening riff of "Murmaider" blasted forth from the spacecraft stereo.

Nathan started headbanging in time with the pounding music. Then, when the vocals came in, he loudly growled along with every word. " _THERE ARE NO FINGERPRINTS DEEP UNDERWATER! NOTHING TO TIE ONE TO A CRIME!_ "

"This is gonna be a long flight," Fox said under his breath. He decided to try to make conversation with the new fighter, so the flight would be more bearable. "So, uh... this is your band?" he asked, raising his voice to be heard over both the music and Nathan.

 _"KNIVES? CHECK!-_ Wha? Um... Yeah, this is my band," Nathan answered. "Well, was. The only people left in it are me and this guy." He pointed to Skwisgaar on the cover.

"What happened to the rest?"

"One quit, one got fired, and the other never returned from his other band's Mega-Reunion tour."

"Oh, man..."

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an album to resume listening to," Nathan said before getting back into the song. " _MURMAIDER MURMAIDER MURMAIDER MURMAIDER MURMAIDER..._ "

Fox rolled his eyes at Nathan's antics. He tried to focus on the flight and pretend that Nathan wasn't there and wasn't blasting Wolf's CD.

 _ ***A/N: Updated description of Nathan's potential moveset.***_


	4. The Arrival

In spite of Nathan blasting his band's music through the spacecraft's stereo, Fox had managed to maintain his sanity throughout the flight. Being involved in five major conflicts in the Lylat System teaches one to do that. At last, the craft had landed in an open area with a mulitude of buildings surrounding it.

"We're here," Fox announced. "Welcome to the Smash Universe." He stepped out of the craft and motioned for Nathan to do the same.

As Nathan exited the craft, he noticed the landscape around him. It looked like a summer camp or a college campus with all the buildings around him and the neatly kept landscapes. There were a few fighters walking around throughout the area. "So, uh... where should I go?" he asked Fox.

"First place you should go is the Master Office," Fox said. "That's where you'll go to be checked in, registered, et cetera. It's the building with the blue roof and the Smash Bros. sigil on said roof. Plus, it's got a big sign that says 'Master Office', so it can't be missed."

"Can you get my bags?" Nathan asked.

"Sure," Fox responded, opening the back of the craft and handing Nathan his bags. "Hope you enjoy your time here!" He went off in another direction.

Nathan took his bags and wandered around, in search of the Master Office. After a bit of walking, he found it. He entered the building to see a giant floating hand muttering to himself about the mail he was reading. "Uh... excuse me?" he shouted up to the hand.

"Wha- Ah! You must be our newest fighter," the hand said in a deep, reverbating voice. "My name is Master Hand. I'm the head of operations in the Super Smash Brothers Multiverse Fighting League."

"I'm Nathan Explosion, the new guy," Nathan said, extending a hand to shake. Master Hand extended his pinkie finger. Nathan shook it with both hands, because it was too big for his one hand.

"Do you have your contract ready?" Master Hand asked.

Nathan opened his bags, rummaged around, and found the contract. He gave it to Master Hand, who inspected it to see that Nathan had signed in all the right areas. Eventually, he accepted the contract.

"OK, so where do I go now?" Nathan asked.

"You should make your way to the Smash Mansion," Master Hand said. "There are maps in the pamphlet shelf. One side has a map of the entire grounds, and the other has a map of the mansion proper."

"What room am I in?"

"Hmm... let's see... You'll be in room 38."

Nathan searched for a pen, opened the map to the Smash Mansion side, and circled Room 38. "Thanks," he said. "I'll be off."

As Nathan walked through the grounds, he was greeted by several fighters, asking if he was the new fighter Master Hand had told them about. He said yes to every one of them, and continued walking until he hit the Smash Mansion. As he stepped inside, he was greeted by a tall blonde woman wearing a tight blue bodysuit. "You must be our newest fighter," the woman said, offering her hand. "I'm Samus. Pleasure to meet you."

"I'm... Nathan," Nathan answered, shaking her hand. He felt somewhat awkward around a woman other than Abigail Remeltindtdrinc who looked just as beautiful, but he put those feelings aside.

"So did you just get here?"

"Yeah. I'm in Room 38. Have any idea where that is?"

"Oh, that's right near my room! I'll lead you there. Mind if I take one of your bags?"

"S- S- Sure," Nathan stuttered. Samus was offering to help him out right on the first night! This made him feel really awkward. Nevertheless, he followed Samus up a flight of stairs and down several hallways. When he saw a door reading "38", he opened it and stepped inside. "So, uh... this is it?" he asked.

"Yeah," Samus answered. "Sure, it might look a little empty, but if you have any personal mementoes in your bag, you can put it in here to make it feel a bit more like home."

"I brought a few Dethklok posters," Nathan said, rummaging around in his bag and pulling out a flag with himself in barbarian garb and the Dethklok logo underneath.

"Dethklok? Is that a band?" Samus asked, curious. "And... is that supposed to be you?" She pointed to the image of Nathan.

"Yup! Dethklok's my band. Seventh largest economy in the world, frequent Metal and Miscellaneous Hard Music chart-topper, and mainstay upon the festival circuits of Europe and beyond. ...At least, before everyone bailed."

"I'm not really a metal fan, but it sounds interesting."

"OK, then. So what else can I do tonight besides redecorating?"

"I'll take you to the Subspace Lounge. It's where a lot of us hang out every night. You can get to meet some people you'll likely be squaring up against soon."

"So I basically make nice with whoever's a- _butt_ I'm supposed to be kicking in some time?"

"Yeah, that's basically how it works. We're all friends here, despite fighting against each other. At least, we mildly tolerate each other."

"OK."

"And I know you were censoring yourself there. That profanity thing in the contract? That's only when you're on camera, like when you're in a fight or doing interviews. In private, you can say whatever the f*guitar noise* you want. See? I'm not getting in trouble for that."

"Good. Can we go now?"

"Let's."


	5. The Subspace Lounge

Samus led Nathan to a long building a few steps away from the Smash Mansion. A few low-lit lamps hung on the awning above the entrance. Lights could be seen through the windows, and the sounds of chatter and music were heard. "Here we are," Samus declared.

Nathan stepped inside the building. Many fighters of diverse appearances were seated at tables or sprawled out on couches, eating, drinking, laughing, and having a good time. Matches from the last few days were shown on TV screens scattered throughout the building. Near the front of the building, there was a bar. A sign behind it said: _NO ALCOHOL IS TO BE SERVED TO: PERSONS BELOW THE AGE OF 20 - THOSE WHO CANNOT PROCESS ALCOHOL IN THEIR HOME UNIVERSES - FIGHTERS WHO HAVE A MATCH SCHEDULED FOR THE FOLLOWING DAY - PATRONS WHO HAVE CONSUMED EXCESSIVE AMOUNTS OF ALCOHOL IN ONE NIGHT. THANK YOU FOR YOUR CONSIDERATION, MASTER HAND._ The fighter working the bar was a man in a tight blue jumpsuit, yellow gloves and scarf, and a red helmet with a mask below it. Nathan recognized him as the guy who pulled out a car out of nowhere.

"What's up, Captain Falcon?" Samus asked.

"Same ol', same ol'," Captain Falcon answered. "Hey, you must be the new guy. Nathan, am I right?"

"Yeah," Nathan said. "You're the guy who pulls out a car out of buttf*guitar noise* nowhere for a move in fights. That's pretty brutal."

"Oh, you mean the Blue Falcon? Yeah, it is kinda brutal when you think about it. But fortunately, when we're in the arena, we have near invulnerability to that sort of thing. You'll learn about it later on. Name's Captain Falcon, by the way."

"I'm still Nathan," Nathan said, reaching over to shake Captain Falcon's hand.

"So what'll you two be having tonight?"

"I'll just take a beer," Nathan said. "What about you, Samus?"

"Same as him."

Captain Falcon took out two bottles of beer from a nearby refrigerator, opened them, and handed them over. "Here you are. That's 6 Smash Coins each."

Samus pulled out a small wallet, took out two blue coins and one red coin, and handed them off. Then she and Nathan walked over to a table that was almost empty, save for one fighter. This fighter was a young male with short blond hair, blue eyes, and dressed in black armor with an abnormally large sword on his back.

"So who's this guy?" Nathan asked.

"My name is Cloud Strife," Cloud introduced himself. "You're the new guy, right? I remember when I was the newest Smasher. It wasn't that long ago, as a matter of fact. Nathan, is it?"

"Yeah. Mind if we sit here?"

"Go ahead."

Nathan and Samus set their drinks down on the table and sat down. "So, uh... how hard is it to get into the league?" Nathan asked, trying to make conversation.

"Depends on how long you've trained," Cloud answered. "Some of us have been fighting nearly our whole lives. Others have lived a primarily civilian lifestyle until they got here. The latter usually have it a bit harder. But we have excellent trainers up here, so the difficulty should go down once you've been working with them for a while."

"OK..."

"Unfortunately, I'm not allowed to tell you anything about how the final test works. There are no videos of it on our website, and the footage is only shown here for a week after you make it in, if you make it at all. I made it about two months ago, so my final test isn't shown on here anymore."

"Has anyone ever failed the final test?"

"When the Ice Climbers wanted to reapply, they had to do the test again, and they didn't make it," Samus told Nathan. "Kind of a shame, really. They were second-best in the league before they quit. But then again, the tests have changed since the time they left."

"So why don't they put the old tests up on the web?"

"Dunno."

Just then, a small, orb-shaped, armored and caped creature carrying a serrated sword approached the table. "So... I hear you're the newest recruit," he said in a deep, vaguely-Spanish-accented voice.

"I guess everyone knows by now," Nathan snarked.

"Well, here's hoping you do well. You'll need hope around here. How else do you think I got to the top of the league?" The fighter spun around, whirling his cape and brandishing his sword.

"You're not at the top of the league anymore, Meta Knight," Samus told the fighter, somewhat perturbed at his attitude.

"Says the 'official standings'", Meta Knight shot back. "But everyone knows I'll always be the best fighter in the league."

"Go be a bragging dick somewhere else," Samus almost yelled.

"Well, if someone can't respect those who worked hard to make their way to the top..." Meta Knight snarled before turning around and walking away.

"Who the hell was that?" asked Nathan.

"That's Meta Knight," Samus said. "If you can't tell by now, he used to be top of the league. _Used to._ He's also a huge douchebag because of it."

"Where's he now?"

"Right now he's 10th. Strangely enough, the current top three are all females - that would be Sheik, myself, and Rosalina; in that order. But Meta Knight still thinks he's top of the league, and still rubs it in everyone's face."

"Has he ever lost a match?"

"Of course. Everyone around here's lost before. But he's still one of our strongest fighters."

"Hm."

After about two hours, Nathan made his way back to the Smash Mansion to get a good night's rest. It was a long night, and he needed rest if he was going to do a good job the next day.

 _ ***A/N - Updated to include information about Feb. 2016 tier list, as well as rewriting Cloud's lines. Stay tuned for Chapter 6, where we are introduced to a certain sinister group...***_


	6. First Day, Also The Tribunal

Nathan slightly opened his eyes to the glinting sunlight from behind the Venetian blinds in his window. He closed them again, only to be awoken by the blare of a nearby alarm clock. He looked over at the clock. _7:30 AM_ , it read. Nathan decided to wake up. He gathered up a bundle of clothing, slipped on a modesty towel and his boots, and headed over to the men's showers. Yes, he was wearing tall, intimidating, black boots under a towel around his waist. No, he did not care.

When Nathan got to the showers, he chose the first stall to the left, put his stuff down, disrobed, got in the actual shower, and turned the water all the way up to a brutally hot temperature. He didn't care. Putting yourself in a bit of pain was totally metal. While the water steamed, he thought to himself about how Skwisgaar and Charles were doing at Mordhaus. This made him think about Dethklok. This in turn made him suddenly bust out into "Face Fisted." " _I AM BE DANGEROUS NOW! NOT ME HURT WHEN STAIRS FELL DOWN! ME PUSHED BY YOU-_ "

"Would you kindly can it?!" shouted a Brooklyn-accented, pissed-off sounding voice from the neighboring stall. "I'm trying to think here, and there you are giving the entire men's shower facility a one-man death metal concert! I can respect your art form, but I can't concentrate worth a damn with you growling your lungs out in there!"

"Sorry, man," Nathan said, somewhat perturbed at his shower neighbor's interruption. He tried to be quieter. _"Me hit head... Me nose broke, soon you be dead... Soon you be dead..."_

Nathan's shower neighbor finished up about five minutes before he did. He wanted to give this guy a piece of his mind, but it was too late - the guy had already left. Nathan figured he would meet up with him later, if he even knew what he looked like. He shrugged, got dressed, and went back to the Smash Mansion for breakfast.

Back at the Smash Mansion, several Smashers were eating breakfast. Nathan entered the kitchen, pulled a bag of chips out of a nearby cupboard, tore it open, walked to the table, and sat down, eating the chips all the while.

"You eat chips for breakfast?" a blue-haired, red-caped swordsman asked, somewhat weirded out at Nathan's eating habits.

"Yeah," Nathan said, spraying chip crumbs onto the table as he spoke. "Got a problem with that?"

"Uh... no," the swordsman said. "I just... y'know, think it's weird to eat chips for breakfast."

"You're eating homefries, Ike," another blue-haired swordsman commented. "Aren't both homefries and chips made from potatoes?"

"He's right, Ike," Samus said, entering the kitchen. She got out two pieces of bread and placed them in the toaster. "Hang on a sec... Nathan eats chips for breakfast?"

"Why the f*guitar noise* is eating chips for breakfast a big deal all of a sudden?!" Nathan yelled out in rage.

"Sorry, man," Samus said, looking away. "I didn't say that to be nasty. I'm just asking."

"Who are all these people, anyway?" Nathan asked.

Samus introduced Nathan to everyone else at the table. The green-capped, mustached plumber was named Luigi; the dark-skinned, redheaded warlock was Ganondorf; the dog-spirit-man-creature was called Lucario; the blue-haired, red-caped swordsman who had initially questioned Nathan's eating habits was named Ike; and the other blue-haired swordsman in the red-and-blue cape was Marth. Then she introduced everyone else to Nathan. "As if you didn't already hear about him," she commented.

"So, uh... Nathan," Ike began. "After we're done here, briefing starts at 9AM. We have to go to the Smash Hall, where we'll be seated in alphabetical order by universe. You're from which universe again?"

"I'm from Dethklok," Nathan said.

"OK, so... You'll be in the front row. Look out for a dark-haired woman with gun-boots and glasses. She's the one you'll be sitting beside."

"She's not from my universe, is she?"

"Nope. Her name is Bayonetta. She's from her own universe. That's the universe ahead of you in the alphabetical order."

"OK. Thanks," Nathan said in between mouthfuls of chips.

"So once we're in there, Master Hand will go over some information about upcoming events, any changes in schedules, if and when things might be closed down for maintenance, stuff like that. Since today's your first full day, you'll probably get a formal introduction, so be prepared to get up on stage and say some things about yourself. Also, at the end, Master Hand's probably going to keep you for a little while and tell you some more important stuff that you have to know as a newcomer."

"OK."

Everyone finished up breakfast, put away their stuff, and walked to the Smash Hall for briefing. When Nathan got in, he kept an eye out for Bayonetta. He found her, went over, and sat down beside her. "So, uh... Bayonetta, is it?" he asked her, trying to make conversation.

"Yes, that's my name," Bayonetta replied, not making eye contact with Nathan. "As for you, I already know who you are. You're Nathan Explosion, frontman of heavy metal sensation Dethklok."

"Hey, what's with the coldness?"

"You leather-clad hooligans have introduced a bastardized idea of witchcraft to a generation of simple-minded youth who have attempted to summon demons without any idea of what they are doing at all. It's taken me a _long_ time to perfect the art, and I can tell you it's nothing like what your heavy metal lyrics are about."

"You summon demons? Holy sh*guitar noise*, that's pretty brutal."

"See? That's exactly what I was talking about. Now shut up, Master Hand's coming."

Soon, the crowd hushed as Master Hand appeared above a platform in front of the entire roster. "Good morning, Smashers," he said, his echoing voice reverbating around the hall. "First order of business: As most of you already know by now, we have a new member of the league. I would like all of you to give a warm welcome to Mr. Nathan Explosion, hailing from the Dethklok universe. Nathan, please come up to the platform."

Nathan rose from his seat and walked up to the platform where Master Hand was levitating above. All of the other Smashers applauded politely. Master Hand pointed to an area in front of Nathan. A microphone suddenly appeared. "Tell us a little about yourself, Nathan," Master Hand said.

Nathan went up to the mic and tapped it, making sure it worked. It did. "So, uh... as Master Hand said, I'm Nathan Explosion. I front the international melodic death metal band Dethklok, seventh largest economy in the world. Apparently, one of your former fighters knows my music and has a CD of it, which that Fox guy who picked me up still has to give back."

That last part incited a laugh from part of the audience. Fox, who was sitting near the back of the audience, could be seen face-palming.

"So..." Nathan continued. "Things haven't been going so well with Dethklok lately. Three of our members have left, and the two of us who still remain have been running out of ideas for our next album. So I thought I'd join the league to earn some money and maintain our status as the seventh-largest economy in the world, not to mention maybe get some ideas. Is that good enough?" He turned to Master Hand.

"That's perfect," Master Hand answered. "Thank you very much, Nathan. You may return to your seat."

Nathan returned to his seat, with everyone else applauding. Master Hand snapped his fingers, making the microphone disappear. Then he got on with some other business. He said something about an upcoming fight, then he dismissed all the fighters except for Nathan.

After everyone had left the hall, Nathan approached Master Hand. "So what did you want me to stay here for?" he asked.

"Once we're done here, you'll have to report to the infirmary," Master Hand told Nathan. "There, you'll be tested for height, weight, heart rate, breath rate, and other statistics of that nature. After that, you'll be headed to the Smash Bros. Dojo. One of our trainers will assess you on your fighting skills. After that, you'll be free to go for the rest of the day."

"Thanks," Nathan answered. He pulled out the map from his back pocket, located the infirmary, and headed off.

Nathan opened the door to the infirmary. A portly, mustached doctor was taking some notes on a clipboard. "Ah!" he shouted as he noticed Nathan. "You're-a here for-a the examination?"

"Yeah," Nathan said.

"Step-a right on this-a here scale," the doctor said, gesturing to a scale. Nathan stepped on it. The number registered as 190 pounds/86.2 kg. Then he was directed by the doctor to stand against a stadiometer, where his height was measured as 6'5"/1.96 m. Then, the doctor gauged Nathan's heart and breath rate. "You're in-a decent shape," he concluded. "Not-a really the ideal-a shape, but-a with some training, you'll-a get-a better. I'll-a send-a the figures over to Jillian. Now, you gotta go to the dojo, right-a?"

"Yup," Nathan said. "Thanks, doc."

"Name's-a Dr. Mario, by the way."

Nathan left the infirmary and went to the Smash Bros. Dojo. When he entered, a young man in red fitness attire was waiting in the middle of four sandbags with eyes. "Nathan, am I right?" he asked.

"Mm-hmm," Nathan responded.

"Pleasure to meet you," the man said. "My name's Tony. I'm the combat trainer, at least for the men. My partner Jillian takes care of the women. But that's not important. So, would you mind standing over by me, in the middle of the sandbags?"

Nathan walked over to Tony, who gave more instructions. "So you see these sandbags? I want you to give them a good beating for the next two minutes. They're sandbags, not sentient beings despite the eyes. So give 'em all you got, no mercy. Starting... now!"

Nathan punched, kicked, threw down, and pummeled the sandbags with all the fury that he could muster. He channeled the rage of his lyrics into his body, performing what he had sung about in real time on the sandbags. Finally, after two minutes, Tony signaled for him to stop.

"OK... So you've obviously got some hand-to-hand combat experience on you," Tony said. "It's a little haphazard, though. The attacks don't seem to be executed with that much precision. It's like you're just interested in beating down the sandbags with no forethought. In a real Smash situation, fighting without thinking could lead to your opponent beating you at your own game. But we'll get on that. Now, let's test your defensive skills."

Tony pressed a button on the wall. Launchers on the walls, floor, and ceiling were revealed. "Let's see how many of these you can dodge," he challenged Nathan. "Don't worry, these won't hurt you, they'll just cause a little tingling. But still, dodge them. Starting..." He turned a dial underneath the button, and pressed the dial. "Now!"

The launchers began firing blue energy balls. Nathan frantically dodged, weaved, and turned around, trying to keep his eyes on all the launchers. This proved to be somewhat futile, as he got hit multiple times by the energy balls over the course of the training session.

Tony stopped the launchers. "All right, Nathan..." he said, walking over to Nathan. "Your defense strategies aren't really that well-developed. You're trying to keep your eyes on all the launchers at once. If something's fired at you from behind, you won't be able to dodge it in time because you're too busy trying to look for it. We'll make sure to work on that next time. So, uh... that's all for today. You're free to go."

"Thanks," Nathan said. He went back to his room to put up some of his Dethklok mementos.

Later that night, back in Nathan's home universe, a government-issued hovercraft descended in a remote area. Nearby, there was a large building with a symbol of the Earth above the doors. A trapdoor underneath the hovercraft opened, and a staircase extended. Down that staircase came two heavily-muscled guards, escorting an anthro grey wolf who didn't look too pleased to be there.

"I still don't see the point in doing this," the wolf grumbled.

"Silence, canine," one of the guards hissed. "You agreed to the payment, and now you have to help us."

The guards escorted the wolf into the building. When they entered, they were greeted by a panel of official-looking men, including an army general, a religious leader, and an ominous-looking, white-haired man seated upon a throne in the center of the panel.

"Our expert has arrived, Mr. Salacia," the other guard announced.

"Very well," said the man on the throne. "Our meeting may commence. Senator Stampington, if you will..."

"Thank you very much, Mr. Salacia," a senator in the crowd said, stepping up to a lectern in front of the panel. "Gentlemen, we have received word that in the midst of Dethklok's latest bout of writer's block, Nathan Explosion has signed up for a position in the Super Smash Brothers Multiverse Fight League. General Crozier?"

"With Nathan temporarily leaving the band, this leaves only Skwisgaar left to write music for the album. If something goes wrong, Skwisgaar could potentially be the only member left."

Senator Stampington introduced the seething canine flanked by the two guards. "Here to talk about this is Super Smash Brothers Multiverse Fight League expert and former competitor Wolf O'Donnell."

Wolf stepped up to the lectern. "First off, let me get one thing straight: I f*guitar noise*ing hate you guys," he began.

"We paid him to be here," a guard explained to the rest of the panel.

Wolf cleared his throat before continuing on with the explanation. "The Super Smash Brothers Multiverse Fight League is an organization devoted to not only engaging in combat, but also establishing personal relationships with your competitors. Fighters come from all sorts of universes, which explains why some of them may look rather out of place amongst one another."

"Hang on," said the priest. "You said 'personal relationships'? As in friendships?"

"Exactly," Wolf continued. "If Nathan Explosion ends up building enough relationships with his fellow league members... he'll... uh... Somebody finish this for me! I can't bring myself to talk bad about one of my favorite bands! That's your job!"

"That's it," Salacia hissed. "You're not getting paid for this."

"F*guitar noise*," Wolf cursed. "That was a waste of a trip."

"Anyway, as our expert was saying, if Nathan Explosion ends up building enough relationships with his fellow league members, he'll only expand the empire of the Dethklok fanbase and pose even more of a threat," Senator Stampington finished. "Mr. Salacia, what do you request we do about this?"

"We wait," Salacia intoned.

A moment of silence proceeded, only to be broken by Wolf's complaint. "Can I just go back to my own goddamn universe already?!"

 _ **A/N: Updated to include Bayonetta into the story. Also renamed the Wii Fit Trainers (Tony and Jillian, after fitness personalities Tony Horton and Jillian Michaels.)**_


	7. Arguments and Mediations

THAT SAME EVENING - SMASH MANSION, ROOM 38

"Well, what do you think?" Nathan asked, holding his door open to Samus.

Samus stepped inside the room. There were three different Dethklok flags on the wall - the one of Nathan in barbarian garb and another one depicting a murderous-looking mermaid hanging on either side of the window, and another one depicting the _Dethwater_ album artwork above Nathan's bed. On a shelf near the door, there was a CD player with a stack of Dethklok CDs - the entire discography, to be exact. On the edge of the wall beside the shelf, there was a framed photograph of the Dethklok lineup with each member's signature under his face.

"Looks like this place has been turned into a shrine to your band," Samus commented.

"Well, what can I say? I'm proud to be a member, I do it for the art, and I wanna keep memories of the others right next to me," Nathan replied. "I miss Pickles, and I even kinda miss Toki and Murderface. And pretty soon I'll start missing Skwisgaar, Charles, and the rest of 'em down at Mordhaus."

"Well, they can always come down to spectate a match or two," Samus suggested. "It happens all the time."

"Well, how the hell do they get here? Does that Fox guy come pick them all up?"

"He'd have too much of a hassle trying to do that. The Arwings - that's the spacecraft, by the way - only seat two people, driver and passenger. There are two of them, so only four people can travel at once. Obviously, each driver has to be the owner of their respective Arwing, which would be Fox and Falco. So if you take them out of the equation, only two people can be taken at a time. Instead, what we do is tell all interested spectators in each universe to meet at a special point. Then Master Hand teleports them all to the arena."

"OK, then. Are they allowed to watch my tests to see if I'm in the league for good?"

"No. We close admission to everyone from your respective universe on the test match. Other universes are allowed, but not yours."

"Why not?!"

"Master Hand's policy. He says having audiences from your universe would be 'distracting', even though fighters can't see the audience from the other side of the barrier that separates them... But you'll have one or two exhibition matches before your tests, so they'll be allowed to come there."

"Brutal. So, should I go back to the lounge? I kinda wanna meet more people."

"By all means, go ahead. The more people you meet, the better. I'll likely be down in a few minutes."

"All right!"

Nathan exited the Smash Mansion and made his way to the lounge. Along the way, he noticed Ike talking to a strange bird-man of some sort. "Hey, Ike!" he said as they crossed paths. "Wanna go to the lounge with me?"

"Hang on," the bird-man said, turning to Nathan. "You're the guy who interrupted my shower this morning."

"And you're the asshole who interrupted _my_ shower," Nathan shot back, recognizing his aggressor's voice.

"Guys, let's not start," Ike said, wedging himself between the two so as to avoid physical confrontation. "Nathan's new here, so he doesn't really 'get' everyone yet. We'll talk about it as we go on." He started leading the others to the lounge.

"So, uh... Nathan," the bird-man began. "When I'm in the shower, I kinda like a little peace and quiet, y'know what I mean? I can't stand it when someone starts runnin' their mouth right next to me."

"Not my fault," Nathan answered. "I was thinking about my band at home, and my mind sorta... drifted, get me? I started thinking about one of our songs, and I couldn't help but bust it out."

"Well, keep what's on your mind in your mind, 'kay? Especially if it involves death-growling. I mean, I can handle it. But I don't wanna have it forced on me. Wolf was bad enough with it when he was still around..."

"Wow, you can't handle the brutality. You're a little p*guitar noise*y, aren't you?"

"What the f*guitar noise* did you just call me?!"

"Guys! Guys!" Ike yelled, trying to prevent an argument before it started. "Nathan, bad call. Try to use a little more tact when someone else is expressing their opinions, OK?"

The bird-man turned back to Nathan. "And yeah, I can handle brutality. Just not when someone blasts it out at me without my permission."

"OK, guys, we're here," Ike announced. "We'll talk about it when we get inside."

When the party of three entered the Subspace Lounge, they were led by Ike to a small table in the back. All three of them sat down around it, with Nathan and the bird-man facing each other. "So we're gonna talk about this one at a time. When one of you is talking, the other one can't interrupt. Nathan, you're the one who apparently started it, so you start."

Nathan paused before starting his speech. "OK, so I'm in the shower, yeah? I turn up the water, steam for a few seconds, and start thinking about home. Now, as you know already, I front a death metal band. The preferred vocal style for death metal is the death growl. So I think of my band, then I think of a song. Then I start singing it. Admit it, you've probably started singing to yourself at some point or other, right? That's basically what I was doing. Sure, it was probably a little on the 'loud' side, but that's how the style's meant to be performed. And you were being an ass about it, so as you might expect, I got a bit resentful towards you. Later on, I recognize you for who you are by the sound of your voice. I tell you that you were being an asshole, and you interrupted me. I try to explain myself, and then you start insulting my genre of choice. Being a performer of said genre, I don't take lightly to those kinds of insults. And you didn't understand that, so you started acting out at me, and Ike here had to break us up and sit us down for this stupid little mediation thingy... Oh, I don't know! You talk."

"Go ahead, Falco," Ike motioned to the bird-man. "Nathan, no interrupting."

Falco began his side of the story. "All right. I get in the shower, and while I'm in there, I try to strategize a little for a match I have tomorrow. Now, these strategies could make a huge difference in whether I win or lose the match. Then you come in, start growlin' your lyrics, and I immediately lose my train of thought. I tell you to stop, and you do. Unfortunately, it took me a little while to figure out what I was gettin' at again. Obviously, I'm kinda pissed about it. But I get over it like a real man, and then when you come around, I tell you that you interrupted me, and I expect an apology. Then you start flarin' up, and Ike makes sure a fight doesn't break out. So I explain myself a little clearer. Mind you, I've listened to some of your material before. I even have a few songs saved so I can listen to 'em whenever. But as you said earlier, you took it as an insult, so you called me a p*guitar noise*y. That only fuels the fire even more. You have no idea how close I was to knockin' you out right then and there. But lucky for us, Ike was standing between us and prevented a fight for the second time. So, yeah, that's how it goes."

"All right," Ike said. "So, it was partially Falco's fault because he didn't tell Nathan to stop in a way that Nathan would have accepted. And it was partially Nathan's fault because he took what Falco said the wrong way, and started insulting him. Now the both of you have to take your respective blames and apologize to each other."

"Sorry about what I said earlier in the showers, Nathan," Falco apologized.

Nathan gulped. He knew how much he hated apologizing. But he remembered Samus's words about everyone in the league getting along, and he didn't want to soil Dethklok's reputation by being the one to offset that balance. "I'm... I'm... sorry about taking what you said the wrong way and raising a sh*guitar noise*storm about it," he said after a long pause.

"No problem," Falco accepted the apology. "Sometimes I take stuff the wrong way, too. Sometimes it doesn't end well, and it ends up causin' tension between me and whoever else was involved. But now that we've solved everything between us, it's all good."

"OK... Name's Nathan Explosion." Nathan offered his hand.

"Falco Lombardi," Falco responded, shaking Nathan's hand.

"All right, then," Ike finished. "So we're all good now. See what happens when you try to explain without interrupting each other?"

"The argument's over," Nathan grumbled. "You don't need to rub it in our faces."

"Sorry."

"So anyway, what's the deal on match day? Do we all go down, or can we skip it if it ends up being boring?"

Falco began an explanation on how match days work. "OK, so you don't have to show up at the match, but Master Hand doesn't really like it if you're not there. And leaving mid-match ain't the best idea, either. Something about 'morale', et cetera... So if you wanna get on Master Hand's good side, then you should show up."

"OK. Continue on."

"So once you're in there, you'll be able to see us duking it out, but we won't be able to see you. Master Hand designed this barrier between the audience and us, so we would be able to concentrate on our matches, rather than the audience. Don't know why, though. We can still hear everyone, especially when you're cheering for us. And hitting the barrier hurts like hell, lemme tell ya."

"Sounds funny, though," Nathan smirked.

"Oh, it is," Falco confessed. "But only when you're seeing it happen, NOT when you hit it yourself. But on the other side, we all forget it because it's just too damn hilarious."

"Can't wait to see it."

"OK, back on topic: Unlike briefings, you don't have to sit in universe alphabetical order. You can sit with whoever you want. So if you wanna sit with Samus or whoever, you do that."

"Brutal."

"Other than that... well, you'll have to see what it's actually like tomorrow. I'm going up against Shulk, R.O.B, and Little Mac. You'll know 'em when you see 'em."

"All right."

Samus approached the three fighters. "Hey, looks like someone's been making friends," she commented.

"I prefer the term ' _casual acquaintances_ '," Falco said back.

"Whatever," said Samus. "So Nathan, you excited to see the match tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Nathan said. "I mean, I know it's not gonna end with everyone but the winner in a bloody pulp, but it sounds brutal nonetheless."

"That's the beauty of Smash," Samus said, taking a deep breath. "You can do whatever you want to your opponents - within regulation, that is - but all it'll do is make them more susceptible to getting knocked off the stage. And if you do get knocked off, you'll either return to the stage in top condition or you'll be teleported to the other side of the barrier where the spectators are."

"Whoa."

"Of course, you can thank Master Hand for that. Thanks to him, anyone in a combat area can sustain potentially lethal injuries without, y'know, actually dying. Unfortunately, the entire universe isn't a combat area. If you were to do something as intense as what we do in a non-combat area, you'd either go into critical condition or you'd die."

"Well, that kinda makes sense. I mean, where the f*guitar noise* else would I see someone just shrug off getting run over with a goddamn car?"

The other three laughed at Nathan's comment.

 _ ***A/N: I'm back, bitches! So anyway, the Internet is back and running at my place, as is my interest in Smash Bros. Hopefully I'll be able to update more frequently now. In the next chapter, we see fitness training and Nathan's first time spectating a match!***_


End file.
